Prosa

Restless Seeker

(I address you, my loyal friend, lend me your senses and judge for yourself)


Could the sky go darker and empty our souls, my dear dreamer? Did you see the madmen turning wise? Did you see how the seers became blind? Did you hear the children shouting under the bomb’s glow? Did you hear how their parents were slayed?
Why do They paint the sky with the blood of the innocent?
You must keep vigilant. Don’t let Them catch you. Don’t let Them know what you know. Don’t answer them back. Keep blind, watch just with the eyes of the shadow; keep deaf, hear only when the wind pulls down its trigger; keep dumb until the sun rises on the horizon and your mouth becomes unveiled.


When is the comet coming back?
Spelling the breathing written in
Dreams of hope:
A trail to the stars.

My roots your senses, my branches and trunk your life, my sap your vision
And when my seed become yours, you’ll get the strenght to reveal yourself.
But until then,
The dreamer gives up his vision.

To you I sign this letter,

Reis Neutel